The dead

Well there’s one
They are gray-eyed I’m sure
They open and close doors
Then feed me in the evening
When I’m breaking my fast

I’m walking on the balls of my feet
In the cold to meet you
I wish I had shoes on

Well this time
I’m gonna love them unceasingly
Sing hallelujah sort of willingly
And dance in front of God like David did

I’m walking on the balls of my feet
In the cold to meet you
I wish I had shoes on